


(More than) Secret Princes

by Esyla



Series: TLC Programming Goes Sterek! [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, My mom liked this show, Reality TV AU, Shh, it only ran for a while, just come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esyla/pseuds/Esyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Derek Hale isn't sure how he ended up on an American reality television show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(More than) Secret Princes

Disclaimer: I am not from England. I did spend a while there as part of exchange program. But my understanding on the government or at least the House of Lords is next to nothing. Forgive me for getting things wrong. I am basing most of this one bad romance novels. Don’t hurt me.

* * *

  
  
When the American production company had put out the bulletin, Derek had thought it was a stupid idea. No reality show was ever going to help him find someone who loved him for who he was and not his family’s status and wealth.   
  
Then Scott from Polo had been all about it for days, going on and on about how American girls wouldn’t care that his family was so low on the rung that they barely still had their seat. Or the fact that Scott’s seat was for Scotland. Then Laura overheard Scott and proceeded to badger him until he caved and signed the deal.   
  
So Scott, with his stupid floppy hair, and he were flown out to America. They ended up in some city he had never heard of, something that was more common than he realized now. They were put into a house with two other ‘princes’. Boyd was the only prince really. Isaac was part of a royal family but he wasn’t close enough in line to be considered a prince legally.   
  
They got boring normal low paying jobs; at a catering company, a dog grooming place and a bar. They had to go to work and could only spend certain amount money. They also were required to use false identities. Derek and Scott were first accidently both assigned the name Tyler but the producers fixed it by having Derek go by Miguel. (It was confusing because Isaac was actually Spanish so what the hell kind of message was that?)   
  
It was during the first couple weeks of filming that he realized there was something going on.   
  
“They only film us with some of the girls,” Derek said to Scott over dinner. Burgers, yet again.   
  
“Yeah...” Isaac looked confused for a moment.   
  
“Only the girls that sign confidentiality agreements,” Scott explained around bites. “Can’t have them leaking what happens before the show airs.”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes and went back to the business of finding someone to love him.  
  
Which was apparently impossible.   
  
Oh, he could find a ton of girls who were willing to throw themselves at him. They swooned at his impeccable dressing (he still ironed all of his shirts even if they wouldn’t let him wear suits) and his exotic accent. (British was not exotic; they founded the country, honestly)   
  
Boyd found a vampy, but pretty blond girl who was willing to sign the agreement and wear an awful lot of make-up. And curvy. Boyd had pointed out three times that women in his country were considered more beautiful with a fuller figure. He was happy Erica had the beginnings of real beauty.   
  
Isaac followed Scott around like a sad puppy, but it seemed to work out well for Scott because he got several offers. There was a cute brunette with dimples who laughed at his jokes and a sassy red head who looked like she was going to eat him whole. Isaac didn’t seem to mind the leftovers that Scott ignored, taking an interest in him.   
  
Derek was not faring well.   
  
“What is with your friends?” the head bartender asked one night.   
  
“What do you mean?” Derek asked the guy who looked to be a few years younger than him.   
  
“Just,” he shrugged. “I get that this is some reality show. I mean Lord Finstock won’t shut his mouth about the business we are going to get after the show airs. But, like, I thought the point was to learn more about America, not screw your way through the entire female population.”  
  
Derek/Miguel raised his eyebrows to that.  
  
“Okay, that might be a bit harsh. But still,” the guy made a sweeping motion with his hands. Derek didn’t know what to say to that. Because, really, what could he say? That most of them had signed up for the test show to get out of the matches their families wanted for them. Derek was really hoping to avoid the vapid heiress his father seemed to like. For several reasons. “You know what, never mind,” the guy bit his lip and turned away, but not before Derek heard him say. “Time to download Grinder again,”  
  
Derek googled Grinder that night when the camera men called lights out. He downloaded it on his phone as well.  
  
That was the catch, the producers hadn’t really said anything; and, yes the family lawyers had poured over the contract and said nothing. But how could they. It was the big secret wasn’t it? That there would be no church wedding for Derek. He could have one of course, but the House of Lords was not going to let him come back if he did.   
  
So Derek sucked it up and only went on half the dates he wanted to go on, because the crew would yank at him when a cute guy came up to him at the club. So he stopped trying and figured it was only going to be a few more weeks.   
  
“I think my phone is broken,” said the bartender. Tonight the man had on a shirt that read Stilinski across the back with a big 24 in the center.   
  
“What makes you think that?” Derek/Miguel asked as he handed out some drinks.   
  
“It keeps giving me the alerts that someone in my general area has this app. Only when I open the app the profile isn’t completed,” Stilinski shook his head. “I think my phone is taunting my lack of love life,”.   
  
He was going to respond when a very busty customer winked at him and he went to take the order instead So maybe Derek tried to listen in when Stilinski bemoaned this problem to an attractive young man who was a regular.  
  
“Save me Danny!”   
  
“Save yourself Stiles,” so his name was Stiles. Stiles Stilinski? Really?   
  
“I am into another straight guy,” Stiles laid down on the bar, something that Derek would not have advised.  
  
“You mean Miguel,” Danny sounded bored. “I told you,”.  
  
“Shut up gay Yoda. No more free drinks for you tonight,” Stiles snapped and yanked at the glass.   
  
“Fine. I will just go get someone to buy me drinks,” Danny taunted and left. Stiles sighed and almost ran smack into Derek, who was not eavesdropping. “Sorry,”.  
  
“Was that your boyfriend?” Derek asked risking it.   
  
“Nah, Danny is just the first person who knew me when I first came out. He was also so kind to lead me on the adventure of what it means to flirt in the community,” Stiles shrugged.   
  
“That sounds strange,” Derek supplied when nothing else really came to mind.   
  
“You have no idea Miguel,” Stiles patted him on the back and got back to work. 

* * *

  
“We are having a barbeque, Derek said without preamble after their shift that night.   
  
“What?” Stiles was wiping down the bar and Derek could see the stretch of his jeans across his rather well defined ass.   
  
“My roommates and I are having an american barbeque as part of the whole premise of the show,” It was actually to meet more girls and have a more ‘cozy’ date setting according to the producers, but, Stiles doesn’t need to know that. “You should come,”.  
“You sure I won’t be bored senseless while all you guys are busy with ladies. Because, I would like to state right now that not all gay men know how to fix hair or what shoes go with those pants. And if you leave me with women all night I will be forced to commit a crime with whatever party supplies I can find,” Derek laughed. “Oh you will regret that. Cake cutters can be used to inflict a great deal of damage,”.  
  
“Wait, cake?” Derek panicked.  
  
“Miguel, every barbeque needs cake. Heathen!” Stiles scoffed and went back to cleaning up.   
  
Derek went and bought a cake.

* * *

  
  
“You are aware that you have failed to even pick one young woman to invite to the ball in a week,” the head producer was saying in a stern, yet not quit yelling, voice. Mr. Argent was the bane of Derek’s existence. He was in charge of what they were allowed to do, and pretty much everything Derek wanted to do was off the list.   
  
“Oh I know,” Derek wanted to be done with this. At least at home he had Laura to use as an excuse for the places he liked to hang out; here he had to be this persona.   
  
“We have been over this. The viewership for this network is middle America. They want certain story lines. So we give them what they want,” Argent pulled out a stack of photos. “Pick one of the girls you have taken on a date.” 

* * *

  
“I thought you said you were going to have chips?” Stiles said at the barbeque.  
  
“We do,” Derek pointed to said chips, fresh out of a very dangerous oven experience. Scott wasn’t allowed to cook.  
  
“Those are fries,” Stiles looked crushed. “I was hoping for like six bags of different flavored chips and dip.”  
  
“You mean crisps,” Derek was really having some trouble with the way Stiles spoke. But, not his mouth. Not, that he could do anything about it.   
  
“Danny was right, my imaginary marriage to you will never work if we are going to have these kinds of problems,” Stiles shook his head. “I suppose you don’t like muscle cars either?”   
  
Derek was momentarily confused, because what? Imaginary marriage? Wait. Stiles. Stiles had a fake world where they got married. That was... good? Wait, there was a question there.  
  
“I own a camaro.” Derek supplied not sure if that was the right answer.   
  
“Well that’s good then. At least we can still be friends.” Stiles opens his mouth to say something else but one of the producers calls for ‘Miguel’ to come have a talk with one of his ‘dates’. “They really want you to pick one of those bimbos don’t they?” Stiles wonders as Derek down’s his beer.  
  
“I am contractually obligated to at least romance one of them. And then you know deal with any press for a few months after and claim I love her.” Derek sighs and puts his empty beer bottle on the table covered in a fruit platter. And Cake. The largest cake they had at the bakery.  
  
“Well you go sacrifice your self on the altar of reality television. I am going to have a brief but passionate affair with this massive red velvet cake.” Stiles grinned and then pulled out the largest corner piece that Derek had cut a while ago.   
  
Derek was dragged away before he could ever really respond. So he just stared as Stiles shoved giant amounts of cake into his mouth. The producer placed him in an intimate corner of the yard and pushed a girl at him.   
  
He really hoped they didn’t get usable footage out of today. 

* * *

  
The ball was going to be tomorrow. His formal clothing had finally been released to him, and he kind of wanted to cuddle his tux. But he wouldn’t because he was dignified and an adult. But he might have bragged. Or said something.   
  
“You might be the only man alive who is happy to put on a full three piece tux.” Stiles was laughing at him. “I am just going to wear one of my dad’s old suits because I sure don’t own anything fancy.”   
  
That was right, Stiles would be there. Everyone from their jobs would be there. That made things a little better. They wouldn’t expect him to spend the whole night with his ‘lady love.’

* * *

  
They did.   
  
Derek hated this. Wanted to die. Because all the boring women were now super annoying and hanging all over him. God this was exactly why he hated trying to date. He wanted out of this fancy ball room and somewhere else now.  
  
“Oh my god I hate you!” Came Stiles’s voice behind Derek. He turned to see that the younger man was not in fact wearing a too large suit and looking bored. No this was some unknown creature pretending to be Stiles. Because the bartender he knew didn’t wear tight and well tailored red suits. Nor did he have his hair cut to a decent length.   
  
“You do?” Derek wasn’t really sure what to say about this.  
  
“Yeah, Kinda.” Stiles took a deep sips of the champagne he was holding. “You lied bro!” Stiles punches him in the arm.   
  
“I was under contract to lie.” Derek really wasn’t sure how to defend against the look on Stiles face right now. How did he say that he never wanted to lie to the other man and they he really wanted to hate this whole thing except if he did then he would be admitting that he hated the thing that had let him meet Stiles.   
  
“You are so lucky I like you.” Stiles smiled and Derek felt something twist in his gut.   
  
They get separated after that and Derek doesn’t even catch a glimpse of the red suit until the show is done wrapping up. He has been effectively released. Only he hasn’t because Derek now has to spend two months in some other town waiting for the show to air. He finds Stiles sitting by the sound guy asking question but looking entertained and a little tipsy.   
  
“His majesty approaches!” Stiles calls out as Derek walks towards him.  
  
“I knew this was a bad idea.” Derek shakes his head and goes to turn, but Stiles catches his wrist first stopping him from making his escape.  
  
“Hey, I’m kidding. Only the scary silent one gets to be called Majesty.” Stiles smiles. “Lets be real, he is rather majestic. Makes me want to sing part of The Lion King.”  
  
“That’s racist.” Derek supplies because Stiles hasn’t stopped touching him.   
  
“So is The Lion King dude. Besides he made me pay him for shit a while back and now that I know he owns a country that is not cool man.” Stiles shakes his head. “It’s against bro code.”  
  
“That’s....” What exactly does one say to that? “True..”  
  
“Exactly!” Stiles looks helplessly pleased. “We are supposed to support each other in The Great Chase, not make your friend give you fifty dollars for shooty information.” Stiles was still holding his wrist.   
  
“You paid Boyd for information?” Derek is finally catching up to this conversation. “About who?”  
  
“Um, no one!” Stiles is turning the same shade as his suit. It’s a lovely look on him. “He was the opposite of helpful. But now I have to wonder if it is a cultural thing. That would explain how cagey he was.” Stiles now looks like he is about make a run for it, his fingers slip off Derek’s wrist and Derek doesn’t even really think about it but he returns the grip keeping Stiles in place.   
  
“Where did you find that suit?” Because he isn’t sure he wants to hear who Stiles was asking about. That would require admitting things that he won't. As his grandmother says, they are English the only things they can feel love for are the dogs and horses.   
  
“This was a horrible impulse buy.” Stiles shakes his head. “Remind me to never ever let Tyler... I mean Scott take me shopping.”   
  
“It’s nice.” Derek wants to say something else, something about the curve of Stiles’ legs in those pants or how much he wants to rip that vest off him.   
  
“I feel like a royal idiot. I was the only one in color.” Stiles snorts at his little pun.   
  
“It made you stand out.”  
  
“Yeah but I didn’t want to stand out.” Stiles sights and then chews at his bottom lip. Derek’s eyes take on a will of their own.   
  
“I like it.” Derek heard the deepness of his voice. He also noticed that during the conversation they had moved closer. They were now chest to chest. Derek could feel Stiles’ breath on his face and almost taste the champagne on his lips. All he had to do was tilt his head and claims Stiles’ mouth.   
  
The air in the room changed and Derek felt the world shrink to this one single heartbeat as he lean forward ever so slightly. Long fingers gripped his biceps and a shot of hot adrenaline ran down his spine lighting up every nerve on its way down. Stiles’ eyes slipped closed and Derek just knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for, he was going to take his time getting there. He wet his lips and slowly tilted his head forward. It felt like his heart might beat out of his chest.   
  
The first brush of lips was intoxicating. The pouty lower part of Stiles’ mouth just barely in contact with Derek’s skin.   
  
“Derek!” Chris Argent shouted from across the room. “Time to go. You have a flight in an hour to the holding house.” Derek felt like growling or murder. Stiles’ eyes popped open and he frowned and backed away.   
  
“Can’t have you being late.” Stiles whispered and Derek wanted to scream and slam the other man against the wall and ravage him at the same moment.   
  
“I’ll call you.” Derek let the last of his courage come to him and pressed his lips forward for a heartbeat in the chastest kiss ever. He fled then, but not before hearing a rather wanton gasp behind him. Damn he really hated this show. But he had skype, so maybe he could make it through the next two months. He had something to do now. He could call Stiles.

* * *

  
He didn’t call. They took his phone and the computer. He was allowed to speak to his family one day a week for a short period of time and a producer had to be in the room with him. Derek felt like screaming.   
  
At least Boyd got to speak to the girl he selected. Scott’s girl was in lockdown with them, something about a contract violation. Derek hadn’t been paying attention. He was just mad at this stupid fucking show. 

* * *

  
Four months.  
  
Two months captive and then two months with his family. Well it really translated into four months being held captive. Peter and Laura were the worst. Laura because she laughed horribly at every episode, and Peter because he didn’t. His father was bored with the whole thing, but told him he had done well on not looking like a complete idiot on American television.   
  
That was the reason for the extra months of captivity. The Press was following him. Not a great deal, but enough that his grandmother had suggested everyone be boring for a while until the Americans and their cameras got bored. Besides there was a perfectly good Duchess for them to be more entertained with.   
  
A loud gong sounded through the house, their horrible version of a doorbell. It was grandma’s idea so they were stuck with it. Derek put a pill over his face.  
  
“I’ve got it!” Laura sprung up and rushed off to the door. She was deeply amused by the continued attempts the press had at getting Derek to come out of hiding. Derek just hoped that they would go away soon. He had other things to deal with, like his job.   
  
“Derek?” Laura shouted from the door. “There is somebody here to see you.”  
  
“I don’t want to see anyone.” Derek explained, again.  
  
“This one says dude a lot.” Laura’s voice sounds amused. Derek felt his stomach drop and got up from the reading chair gracefully to see to the door. (He in no way stumbled and caught his pinky toe on the side board in his attempt to get to the door. No one could prove that.)  
  
“Nice digs man.” Said a familiar voice. Derek felt light and heavy all at once. Stiles was there. Standing at his front door. Looking amazing. His hair was longer, and stuck up funny like he had been sleeping recently. He wore glasses, something Derek had never seen before but instantly loved. There was the stale airplane smell and finally it hit him. Stiles. Was. Here.   
  
He wasn’t going to waste this again. And Stiles didn’t seem to mind having gravel digging into his back when Derek had his tongue down his throat and his hands in his hair. 

* * *

  
  
Peter maybe had later made a horrible comment to grandma about how they were never going to get rid of the press when Derek jumped his boyfriend on the front steps of the estate. Stiles had told Peter to shove it. Grandma had laughed. ** **  
****

* * *

**  
Secret Princes exposed! Did the show cut the best footage? The public responds after recent statements from The Hales about impending nuptials of their only son.**


End file.
